


while there's a moon up high

by vivacissimo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexuality, Foursome, Group Sex, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, R/L and E/A are respectively married, everyone gets a turn, some kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26092231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivacissimo/pseuds/vivacissimo
Summary: Elia moves away from Arthur’s talented fingers, which he sucks clean, and gently pries Rhaegar and Lyanna apart.“There is every other day for you two to kiss one another. Let’s not allow this opportunity for true discovery to pass us by,” Elia demures, leading Rhaegar and Arthur to face each other. Arthur arches a brow..Or, an evening of exploration goes terribly right.
Relationships: Arthur Dayne/Elia Martell, Arthur Dayne/Elia Martell/Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Arthur Dayne/Lyanna Stark, Arthur Dayne/Rhaegar Targaryen, Elia Martell/Lyanna Stark, Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	while there's a moon up high

**Author's Note:**

> super healthy & respectful group sex between friends. one of life's little joys!
> 
> title from etta james - trust in me

It’s nearly midnight when Rhaegar and Arthur finally step foot back into the former’s King’s Landing penthouse. They’d capped off a week of negotiations with an evening spent at the jewel of Oswell’s burgeoning restaurant empire, a Michelin-starred affair that boasted three separate sommeliers. Arthur never drank, but Rhaegar did, and he found the curated experience satisfying. Company not included.

Music is thumping from somewhere in the penthouse, and they follow the noise to where their wives spent an evening in each other’s company.

“Viserys was here,” is what Elia greets them with when they find what they seek, her dark yellow breast band an incredible contrast to her skin, distracting everyone from the ruins of cocktails on the counter. She shimmies backwards suggestively when Arthur reaches out to touch her, clearly in a playful mood.

“He left you some paperwork, and then we got drunk and he showed us his new set list,” Lyanna chimes in, grinning wide at Rhaegar from where she is holding herself on her knees, and makes her ass bounce to the suggestive lyrics when he approaches her. He leans down to place a large hand on her generous bum and squeezes before pulling her up to him.

“Hi, baby,” he speaks slowly, and draws out their kiss. He can feel her shiver from where his hand still is. He smiles to her mouth and separates them, leaving her to pout and take a drink out of the bottle of summerwine she holds by the neck. “Hey yourself, handsome,” she replies coyly, and then spins back to Elia. 

The song changes to something that makes them both yell in joy, and Elia sways her hips almost violently.

“Art, do you mind?” she says breathlessly, pointing to the safe. Arthur complies, putting in the code and tossing a neat stack of bills held together by tight bands to Lyanna’s eager hands. She promptly tosses the band, and starts raining the bills onto Elia like they’re at a strip club, which is amusing to watch. 

“It’s so fucking hot in here,” Lyanna gripes, cheeks pink from exertion and alcohol. Tossing the rest of the money on the table and placing the wine bottle down, she strips off her black t-shirt, leaving her in a black lace demi bra and soft silk shorts. The nice lingerie would indicate she had an evening of mutual pleasure planned, one that Rhaegar mourns. Arthur watches the two for a bit longer before joining Rhaegar in the corner of the room where Viserys’ promised paperwork lies on the desk. 

They look over the figures to the sound of laughter and innocuous flirting common to the friendship of women. Elia has pushed Lyanna down to the couch and is rolling her hips to the beat of the music from where she straddles the taller woman, much to Lyanna’s delight, which is a sight Rhaegar and Arthur have difficulty tearing their eyes away from. The sexual energy in the room is suffocating, and Arthur strips his upper half to his undershirt to relieve some of it.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he grumbles, and Rhaegar wordlessly agrees. His wife drunk on wine is truly one of his favorite versions of her to spend time with, intimate and otherwise. She makes him laugh. 

The noise from the women has stopped, which when he looks at Arthur, he knows the other man has realized too. They both look over at the couch, but can’t see over it. They investigate by closing the distance-

Only to find Elia and Lyanna, half naked, flush from wine, and gorgeous, hands tangled in each other’s hair, stretched out next to each other and trading sensual kisses. Their legs run over each other as if trying to trap the softness, such a sensation to be treasured if only because their respective regular bed partners are much the rougher. 

“This is a sight to see,” Arthur jokes, keeping his voice slanted quiet so as to not ruin the moment. Lyanna and Elia separate to giggles, and sit up. Lyanna gets on her knees to kiss Rhaegar from when he is balanced on the edge of the couch, words not coming to her at the moment. She’s never kissed a woman like that before, and she wants _more_. 

Elia turns her big beautiful eyes to Arthur, who melts under her gaze. Gods above, he loves her.

“Come here, baby,” she practically croons, and he doesn’t waste a moment joining her on the couch. Rhaegar is already there, Lyanna half in his lap as she kisses at his neck. She pauses and looks up, meeting Elia’s eyes, and they reach out to each other, nipping at each other’s lips again.

Elia has told Arthur that she’s been with a few women for sport, and he assumes Lyanna is the latest subject of those desires. Lyanna is a bit more clumsy, clearly inexperienced with the breasts she tentatively cups and runs her thumbs over. Elia’s nipples are beyond sensitive, and his woman moans with her whole throat, a sound which goes straight to his dick. Rhaegar’s hands are on Lyanna’s waist, but migrating upwards, itching to touch her in the places that she loves. 

Neither of them want to disrupt such sweet explorations. Rhaegar turns the music low with his voice and Arthur thumbs at the top of Elia’s long skirt that is thin enough for him to smell a hint of her arousal through. 

Nonetheless, they separate, chests heaving.

“I feel I must ask, where is this evening heading,” Rhaegar states, urgency in his usual level tone. Lyanna is sucking on two of his fingers and rubbing her ass against his lap. He’s as hard as steel already, and Lyanna’s little whimpers are of no assistance. 

“I believe we all wish to be intimate with one another,” Elia smoothly answers, rubbing at Arthur’s stubble with a manicured hand. He purrs, and meets Rhaegar’s eyes. 

“I’m not opposed to it,” he adds, always supportive of Elia’s plans. They usually turn out well for him, as well as his relationship. 

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Lyanna says, eyes blissed out. She’s the farthest gone of all of them, and Rhaegar has no intention of making her wait any longer. The fact that she’s almost shaking in his arms tells him she needs to orgasm _now_. 

Several beats pass, in which any of them could raise an objection. Not a noise is made. 

“Perfect,” Rhaegar grits at a particularly well-placed grind, and grabs a pillow while sliding down on his knees on the floor. Lyanna gasps with glee, and hooks her hands into her shorts to push them down with her panties. “I hope no one minds if I start off with this,” he says, pulling the shorts off Lyanna completely, and hooking her legs over his shoulder to pull her to his mouth.

“Not at all,” Elia insists, delighted, scooting over to Lyanna and kissing her just as Rhaegar’s tongue licks a stripe up her. Lya throws her head back to groan, her normal inhibitions at the bottom of a bottle. Arthur strips down to his boxers, then sits and watches Rhaegar devour pussy, their eyes meeting eventually. Rhaegar smirks at Arthur’s heavy-lidded gaze, and rewards his curiosity by spreading Lyanna’s legs further so Arthur can get a better view. The new angle gets her going even louder, and Arthur looks down to see his wife pulling down the straps of Lyanna’s bra and taking her breasts in her mouth. Wrapping an arm around Elia, he flicks and twists Lyanna’s other nipple, and with his free hand he pushes Elia’s skirt down. 

“Just as I suspected,” he positively growls into her ear when he begins to touch her, “you’re so wet you're practically dripping.” 

Of course, everyone can hear him, as well as his two fingers moving inside, and Lyanna lifts her head from where it’s been thrown back all this time. Rhaegar sucks at her clit with a perfect intensity, so it’s hard to focus. Nonetheless, Arthur’s words strike a chord with her, and she feels compelled to participate. The homoerotic tension between her and Elia is what started this, after all. 

“Are you, El?” she asks, forgoing waiting for a response in exchange for bringing her hand down to circle Elia’s clit. Elia’s head falls to Lyanna’s shoulder, and she starts moving her hips in jerky little thrusts to better the feeling. Arthur knows Elia can’t cum like this, the position just too difficult, but also she likes to edge herself, so he doesn’t let up. 

Lyanna does let up though, when her own pleasure becomes acute, and she grips Rhaegar’s silver hair before finishing all over his mouth. Rhaegar laps at her to ease her through it, then lets her bring him up her body to nuzzle at each other.

“I love you,” Lyanna says against his mouth, and Rhaegar’s responding smile is blinding. 

“Still a servant in the bedroom, I see,” Elia comments from her throne of pleasure next to Lyanna, who laughs so loud it fills the room. “He takes good care of me,” she boasts, then returns to kissing him. Elia moves away from Arthur’s talented fingers, which he sucks clean, and gently pries Rhaegar and Lyanna apart. 

“There is every other day for you two to kiss one another. Let’s not allow this opportunity for true discovery to pass us by,” Elia demures, leading Rhaegar and Arthur to face each other. 

Arthur arches a brow. “I can’t say I’ve ever kissed a man before,” he admits, but he’s not nervous. Just letting his closest friend know where he stands. 

“I have,” Rhaegar responds blandly, “it was unmemorable. Let’s see if you can do better.”

 _Ah, he knows I love a challenge,_ Arthur thinks, pleased by the effort made to relax him, and cups Rhaegar’s face to pull him into a lip lock. Rhaegar goes for the tongue immediately, which Arthur chalks up to Lyanna’s preferences. A preference he shares - too much foreplay can be exhausting.

Kissing a man isn’t bad at all. The power in Rhaegar’s hands running over his shoulders is unmistakable. Elia is his equal in every way except physicality, which he has never minded, but he certainly sees the appeal of strength in a lover. With Rhaegar, he throws that long-ingrained caution out the window, drinking Lyanna’s taste off his tongue, and kneeling on the floor to bring their hips flush. Surprisingly, the feeling of another man’s cock against his isn’t jarring. In fact, when his beautiful friend’s hand reaches around to firmly grasp Arthur’s ass and guide their movements, he finds he enjoys the manhandling. 

“Holy shit,” comes Lyanna’s Northern accent, and the men separate. True to Elia’s word, they don’t let any configuration pass them by. Lyanna reaches for Arthur, who falls into her arms easily. Their embrace is rooted in an uninhibited physical attraction, and it’s mesmerizing to behold. Lyanna directs him to her breasts, which he smothers with attention as diligently as he does everything else in life. 

“It’s been a long while since we’ve been together this way,” Rhaegar notes when he slides next to Elia’s newly naked form. She knocks her nose against his, rubbing them together in the way they did in their youth, and hums. “Tell me, have you missed our sweet fumblings?” she asks, teasingly, and he laughs.

“They made me the man I am today,” he flirts with her, smiling. _Dutiful Rhaegar,_ Elia thinks, not unkindly.

“Let us revisit them, then,” Elia says to his lips, a hand on his chest for balance. Their mouths meet, soft and kind, a habit neither has forgotten. Elia is almost taken aback by how she enjoys him, the mature, seasoned version of the first boy she ever loved. Rhaegar runs a delicate hand across her hips, and her eyes move to his lap where his erection lies, flushed dark to his stomach. She grasps it softly, and he joins her eyes in watching her movements, pulling her to straddle him and grant her ease. When he releases a quiet groan, she flutters kisses across his jawline.

“Now everyone’s had a taste of me,” Lyanna jokes bawdily, which brings the two former lovers out of the haze of the past. Rhaegar separates from her, drawn like a magnet back to Lyanna. 

“I’m going to get water,” he says suddenly, after he’s kissed Lyanna, and she smacks his ass.

Arthur has no such patience left. He pulls Elia to the floor with him, bending her over while he rummages in his discarded pants pocket for a condom. Elia has had bad experiences with birth control, and carrying a child would likely put immense stress on her health, so they rarely go without such protection. Not for the last time, Elia mourns the feeling of her lover bare inside of her, a sensation she acquired a taste for with Rhaegar, who always hated condoms and was more than happy to buy her the birth control her mother forbade. 

_The sooner you two have a child, the better,_ the woman had always insisted. Myriah had been confined to her bed the last few months of her life, and Elia had indulged her ramblings. Then Elia’s dear mother had passed, as had Rhaegar’s father, which freed them to the point that they became free from even each other.

“I’ve missed you, my love,” she says, meant for Arthur’s ears alone. He’s sheathed inside of her, waiting for her signal to continue. He cages her into his chest, and nuzzles at her throat.

“Not half as much as I’ve missed you, my heart,” Arthur tenderly replies, knowing that the past ten minutes in which they both kissed others means she needs a bit of reassurance. She is a sensitive woman, his woman until the end, and he sets an easy pace to start off.

“Faster, please,” she gasps, moving her hips in circles backwards. He complies, and Lyanna’s whispered, “wow,” jerks their heads up, as if just remembering their audience. She lies on her side, naked on the couch in front of them, draped so decadently it further arouses them both.

“You’re gorgeous, El,” Lyanna says, uncharacteristically quiet. She is entranced by the sight of her close friends fucking, so practiced and eased. Rhaegar likes to be gentle as well at times, preferring to go deeper rather than faster, and she can imagine how pleasant and soft his and Elia’s bedplay must have been once upon a time. 

“And you are a vision, beautiful girl,” Elia responds in the breathy tone of lovemaking. Arthur buries his face into Elia’s back, and focuses on pouring his strength into his hips.

When Rhaegar returns, he sees that El and Arthur have wasted no time, and Lyanna touches herself absentmindedly as she watches intently. “Are you enjoying this?” he asks, amused, as he strips himself of his boxers and slides behind her on the couch.

“Yes,” is her strained answer, voice heavy with need. She grabs his head and pulls him down to kiss, open mouthed and fervent. Neither needs to verbalize that they are ready. When he pulls up her thigh so that he might slide himself inside her, she reaches down to assist, moaning in relief when he finally comes to a hilt within her. 

Rhaegar takes a moment to breath. It’s always this way with her. He always needs time to adjust, to calibrate himself to her. They fuck often, once a day if they have the time, sometimes twice if it’s a particularly sexy morning, yet he still can never get enough.

Elia sighs, eyes fixed on where Rhaegar and Lyanna are joined. Voyeurism is her oldest, dearest kink. Erotic materials feature heavily in her bedroom, always have. Arthur picks up on her excitement, her cunt tightening around him, and finds some mirth in it.

“Play with her tits, Elia wants to see it,” he suggests with good humor, his accent stronger than usual due to pleasure.

“You always did appreciate a show, Princess,” Rhaegar murmurs from where his mouth is on Lya’s neck, using an old pet name for his first love, but he complies with the order, bringing the arm he has looped under her knee up to lightly twist at Lya’s flushed breasts. His hips move harder and faster than their normal tempo, his need for her more acute, but still Lyanna begs for more.

“Harder, baby,” she demands of him, meeting every thrust, before the words spoken catch up to her and her brilliant grey eyes snap open, “wait, what do you mean, always did? You guys had group sex before?” The naked curiosity causes everyone to laugh. Elia’s body shakes, and Arthur responds by manhandling her hips to meet his.

“For my nineteenth,” Elia gasps, one hand travelling south to touch her own clit. It takes concentration, she is so wet, but when she finds that special spark she moans loudly and wantonly. “For my nineteenth, I bought Rhaegar a fleshlight because I wanted to watch him fuck. Usually I can’t cum without a mirror somewhere.”

“Fuck,” Lyanna curses, throwing her head back onto Rhaegar’s shoulder. He gives her the kiss she clearly wants, sloppy and hot as hell. “Did you do it? In front of her like that?”

“Of course,” he answers, although he couldn’t care less about the conversation right now, “it was her birthday, after all.” Then he kisses her again, turning her until she is practically on top of him in some mimicry of reverse cowgirl. She throws her arms backwards around his neck and mewls.

Arthur is similarly out of patience. He reaches around Elia, pulling her up to his chest with one arm and knocking her hand away from her clit with the other. He replaces it with his own, not bothering to delay any longer, and speaks into her ear to get her to her place of final pleasure.

Elia, as a lover, is a finely tuned instrument. She requires certain cares to be taken. But the end result, the music she makes when he’s played her just right, are so unbelievably beautiful that he relishes every second.

“I love you until this life ends and beyond that,” Arthur practically grunts with the effort of his actions, “I love fucking you so much I would devote every moment of my existence to it if I could.”

“Yes, my love, I feel the same,” she gasps, clearly in her final throes, “Arthur, I would die before I went without you. Keep going, I’m so close.”

“You are my heart,” he pants into the column of her throat, and presses more firmly between her legs, right above where they are joined. That ends it for them both, and the mutual orgasm is so explosive that they both collapse, stars behind their eyes. 

Rhaegar turned Lyanna so that she could watch better, and the sight made her ever the wetter, but now that the main attraction is over, he selfishly wants her attention back. He can’t deny that one of his favorite parts of lovemaking is that he has her all to himself in those moments.

So, he spanks her. Her ass bounces beautifully and she squeaks in surprise, so he does it again a few times, until her skin has gone the sexiest shade of red. She reaches back, always happy to play sex games, and pulls at his hair. _No fair,_ he laments, and cums inside her. A little bit of pain always does it for him. He holds her close as his powerful orgasm drags out, and she keeps her hips circling until he’s given her everything he has to give.

“Baby,” he mumbles into her hair, as she jerks unevenly, trying to finish herself. He brings a lazy hand to her, encircling her sensitive clit until she erupts for the second time that evening. Once she relaxes into his embrace he greedily kisses at her face until she turns towards him and pulls his face into her chest, arms wrapped around his neck.

“I love you so much,” she whispers into his hair, the way she always does. Lyanna is no wordsmith, but her sensitive husband feeds off reassurance, even if he will never admit it. So she never hesitates to give it to him, even with the simplest words.

Silence reigns for a few moments, the sounds of the city and the muffled music comfortably falling over the two couples. Then Arthur rolls off of Elia and lets out a deep peal of laughter.

“Who would have thought we’d end the evening this way,” he jokes, and Rhaegar assents, exhaustion having hit them both.

“Who said this is over?” Lyanna interrupts their satisfaction, devilish smirk on her face when Rhaegar lifts his head to look at her questioningly. Elia stretches out and sits up, eyebrow raised, clearly on the same page as Lyanna.

“Am I mistaken, or did Rhae and I not just lay it the fuck down?” Arthur asks, propped up on his elbows. His dick twitches in interest when he looks at all the gleaning naked bodies surrounding him, but he definitely needs some time if they’re going to switch now. For Lyanna, though, he would put up the effort. After all, he probably won’t have this opportunity again, and she is quite the accomplished rider…

“You definitely did,” Lyanna purrs, kissing Arthur’s closest friend once more, before detangling herself and sitting with her legs tucked underneath her. Her pussy is clearly visible, and Arthur’s gaze falls on the bead of seed leaking out of her. He wants to lick it up, he thinks, then remembers himself.

“But we started this on our own,” Elia finishes, knowingly, a hint of excitement obvious.

“If you’re up for it, I want to eat your pussy,” Lyanna says, tone so innocent and light it raises all of their spirits. Elia is definitely up for it, Rhaegar and Arthur communicate with a single bemused glance. Princess that she is, she always likes to end with oral, even if she doesn’t finish again. She always gets it, too, because Arthur’s oral fixation is the stuff of Sigmund Freud’s dreams. Rhaegar is not as bad, but even he goes down nine times out of ten, so overall, considering that together they constituted the vast majority of her sexual life, Elia is lucky. 

It appeared the desire to feast on her was just something Elia inspired in everyone she came across. Lyanna was only the latest to fall prey in her web.

“Have you ever done this before?” Rhaegar asks, although he is fairly certain of the answer.

“No, but I’ll learn. Plus, you two can boss me around with instructions if I’m doing bad, the way you guys love to do,” she smiles sweetly at him. Just as he expected. His wife is nothing if not tenacious, and she’ll do anything she sets her mind to brilliantly. He strokes her cheek fondly, and she gives him a quick peck.

Arthur arranges himself at one side of the couch, and Elia lies with her head in his lap. Then she spreads her legs, and treats Rhaegar and Lyanna to the vision of Elia Martell, hair sprawled out, lithe limbs graceful in their arrangement, thighs spread invitingly. Lyanna’s sharp intake of air snaps Rhaegar out of the moment, and he looks over at Arthur, who winks, grinning lasciviously. 

Arthur enjoys watching just the same as his wife, but in Rhaegar's experience it’s usually women with other women that do it for him. Before tonight, Rhaegar thought Arthur so completely in tune with his apparent heterosexuality. That wasn’t a problem, they’re both faithful to their wives unless granted permission otherwise so Rhaegar has only ever been passingly attracted to him. Now that Rhaegar knows better, he can admit he’s curious. He bites his bottom lip, dragging the plump lip out slowly while he purposely appraises the Dornishman’s muscular physique. 

Arthur leans back, face cool, and flexes his arms just so. It’s very sexy. Neither of them are grinning anymore. Instead, their expressions are carefully blank, and equally heated.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am,” Lyanna jokes, meeting Elia’s eyes from where she lies across Rhaegar’s lap, face a breath away from the core of her friend, before going for gold and burying her face in her. Arthur strokes Elia’s hair encouragingly, tweaking a nipple every now and then. Elia squeaks, then relaxes in bliss as one of her favorite people does her favorite thing for her.

“Spread her with your fingers,” Rhaegar says mildly, watching with interest as Elia’s legs quiver around Lyanna’s head. He gathers up his wife's hair and ties it into a bun, so that it doesn’t disturb her, then brings his hands to rest on the small of her back. He contemplates reaching between Lyanna’s legs to pleasure her just the same, but decides not to, so that his bold vixen can concentrate.

“She’s almost there, use the tip of your tongue,” Arthur urges, tracing Elia’s reactions to see if she’s close. Lyanna, ever eager, does so, lapping at her at a speed Elia whimpered for particularly loudly. Elia begins to squirm, her nipples hard and on display as she arches her back, hands threaded into Lyanna’s hair.

“Lya, sweetheart, this is so good,” she moans in ecstasy, mumbling encouraging nonsense as she nears a peak, “please don’t stop, I’m going to cum for you, I love your little mouth, just like that, _yes honey, yes_.”

Arthur and Rhaegar both reach out at the same time, and Elia grabs one of each of their hands before throwing her head back and orgasming with her thighs clenched like a vice around Lyanna’s head. Her final wail is so long and sensual that by the time it ends, Arthur is hard again, and Rhaegar is mostly there with him. Lyanna slips a finger into Elia just as her orgasm ends, and the aftershocks are so intense that Elia is shivering, eyes wet with tears, some of which escape down her cheeks.

Lyanna pops her head up, beyond pleased with herself, and Elia’s thighs are glistening wet. Distantly, Rhaegar makes a note to have this couch cleaned, but for now, having the product of Lyanna’s ministrations on another woman all over her face is mind blowingly hot. 

“Are you okay?” Lyanna asks, stretching across Elia’s body to kiss her lightly. Elia, bless her heart, attempts to muster a response, but she is definitely out for the count now. Lyanna giggles, and sits back into Rhaegar’s lap, adorably looking to the two men for feedback and praise.

Instead, she sees Rhaegar’s raised brow meeting Arthur’s thoughtful expression.

“Oh, shit,” she realizes, eyes wide, the corners of her mouth turning up in surprise and excitement. Arthur lets out a laugh, and comes to sit next to Rhaegar. It’s Lyanna he turns his attention to first, pulling her to straddle him and bringing their mouths together. She goes easily, letting him suck Elia’s essence from her, and when she presses herself against his hardness, he holds her there securely, grinding them together. 

“I feel like you want to fuck me,” she mumbles against his mouth, moving one hand from where it lies flat on his warm, perfect chest to wrap a loose fist around Rhaegar’s cock instead, “but not as bad as you want to fuck him.”

“I’d take you both if I could,” he swears, with no small amount of regret. He and Lyanna have a friendship between them that he thinks they would have made even without Rhaegar Targaryen’s influence, and there is no doubt in his mind that any sex of theirs would be physically incredible. Rhaegar and Elia are both intellectual lovers, marrying the mind and body together in the bedroom for a satisfaction beyond words. Having seen Lyanna in action this evening, though, he can tell she is the type of woman who throws all that to the wind and simply follows where the pleasure leads. 

But nonetheless, her assessment is correct. He feels as though tonight has been leading up to a moment between him and the softspoken Valyrian beauty he spends his working days, and pleasant nights, alongside. Setting vivacious, provocative Lyanna Stark to the side is no small feat, but when he turns to Rhaegar, sitting with one arm slung across the couch, and the other working himself, chiseled cheekbones rosy and silver hair artfully tousled, those thoughts cease.

“Hey,” he says gruffly, not waiting for a response before kissing the man deeply. Rhaegar responds so perfectly, framing Arthur’s face and getting lost in the sensation. He’s so lost that when Lyanna takes his hand and dips some of the lube they keep in the nearby drawer onto two of his fingers, guiding them to Arthur’s erection, he doesn’t break their embrace or question it, just spreads the liquid and begins a rhythm that has Arthur pressing their skin together even more.

Finally, they part for air, and Lyanna gives Arthur the same treatment. He takes to handjobs like a fish to water, and Rhaegar bites at his earlobe in appreciation. That’s precisely Arthur’s soft spot, and he retaliates by cupping Rhaegar’s balls softly, rolling them.

“Fucking hell,” Rhaegar breathes, leaning back where Lyanna sits behind him, surprisingly silent, only focused on her lover’s needs.

“Lya,” Arthur starts, closing his eyes, no more words forming. She reaches for him then too, coming to the floor to nuzzle at Rhaegar’s thighs before she licks at the tip of Arthur, sucking lightly as he responds favorably. Her hand replaces his on Rhaegar’s balls, so he goes back to stroking. 

“A little faster,” Rhaegar commands, no polite request in his tone. His other hand cards through Lyanna’s hair, always touching her somehow. Arthur obliges, nudging their shoulders together so that Rhaegar looks at him. 

“Hey,” he says softly, repeating Arthur’s words from earlier. Arthur smiles, before leaning to suck a mark into his neck, which makes the man grunt.

“Enough, baby,” Rhaegar gently pushes Lyanna off him, where she moved from Arthur to attend to him. She sits back, looking up with wide eyes, awe clear in them. _This is a side of me she hasn’t seen before,_ Rhaegar realizes. But she clearly doesn’t mind, and in fact is trying to make it an even better experience for him. 

He loves her more than ever before, as he does each day. That gives him the freedom to push Arthur down and lie on top of him, grinding them together, the thrill of the sensation the perfect cap to the evening.

“Goddamn, this is so good,” Arthur practically growls, biting his lip in bliss.

“Yeah,” Rhaegar agrees. His orgasm hits him without any warning, and he shudders through his release. Arthur follows him, just as he always does, his thighs falling to the side completely and the muscles of his abs rippling as he rides out the pleasure. 

Rhaegar rolls to the side, breathing heavily as he recovers. A wet wipe smacks him in the face, a second following when he squawks indignantly. Lyanna is smiling widely despite her tired eyes, from where she and Elia are cuddling. “I fucking knew you would cum first,” she brags, and all of them let out easy laughs, loose and drowsy from the night’s events. 

“He almost didn’t,” Arthur says, ever the gracious winner, while wiping himself off and retreating into silence once more. After a minute, he gets up to gather some assorted clothes, and then hoist Elia into a bridal carry. She goes limp, waving like she’s royalty at Rhaegar and Lyanna, who indulgently wave back.

“I’m going to take this one to bed in the guest room if nobody minds,” Arthur announces, smiling wide, ever devoted to Elia's needs, “but we’ll be down for breakfast.”

“Definitely,” Lyanna says, throwing her legs over Rhaegar's lap, “11 sharp, Dayne. Eggs for everyone, heavens know we need protein after this.” 

The sound of Elia’s tinkling laughter echoes even after the two depart.

Lyanna touches Rhaegar’s face once they’re alone, poking him until she brings him out of his thoughts to look at her. “Well?” she asks, sated but always questioning. 

“It was intense,” he finally concludes, after a short time spent thinking, “but worth it. How are you, sweetheart?”

She beams. “I had an amazing time. I love when we’re spontaneous,” she giggles wickedly, then amends, “but I wouldn’t want to do it again soon. It was a lot for me.”

He tilts her head up with two fingers. “For all of us,” he agrees, before kissing her on the forehead, “I think it’s time to retire.” There is much more to be said, of course, but the hour is late, and a night’s sleep is calling him so enticingly that he couldn’t possibly refuse. He hasn't refused himself anything in the past few hours, why start now?

“I think the fuck not,” Lyanna replies indignantly, catching him off-guard, “we are taking a _shower_. We are literally covered in bodily fluids right now, holy shit.”

He laughs, and chases her to their shower, where they wash up in companionable silence, too wiped out to even pretend at anything else. When they’re finished, he wraps them up in towels so fluffy they feel like clouds, and a freshly clean Lyanna moves to make her way into the bedroom when Rhaegar stops her. 

He pulls her into an embrace, one she returns, and props his chin on top of her head. “I love you,” he says, simply. She doesn’t reply, just rubs her nose against his chest and purrs contentedly.

**Author's Note:**

> in order for this to work let's say that elia and rhaegar had a very amicable split, rhaegar and arthur are both mega comfortable in their masculinity, and all couples here are good at communication. i know that's a tall order but *shrugs*


End file.
